


Just a beginning

by Grayhoodiesrule



Category: DCU (Comics), Harley Quinn (Comics), Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 12:04:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15863259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grayhoodiesrule/pseuds/Grayhoodiesrule
Summary: It's a drabble based on the Suicde Squad take on the Joker/ Harley relationship





	Just a beginning

I had been allowed a glimpse into his inner world, his private nightmares, and his past only because I was never meant to survive it. When I drop the charade for a second, and really let myself think about it, the fact that I'm still here, amazes me beyond words. It's a proof. My only proof. Even when he denies me everything else-I have this one thing to keep me going. 

In the early days of our relationship, my life consisted of nothing but anticipation and waiting. I had been waiting for the darkness to come, for the night to be over, for the sun to rise, so in the brisk, morning light I could drive myself back to the facility, and hope for a chance of a brief meeting. If I got lucky, a miracle would happen—I would lift up my gaze from a medical record paper, or a patient's face, and there he would be-- impossible and perfect –sallow skin, poison -green hair; wearing his misery and defiance just as well as he did his lipstick. My Poor Yorick, my beloved clown, who somehow stepped out of a page of a futuristic Shakespearean play. He hadn't been laughing much then, but his iron-clad smile had the same mesmerizing gleam to it as it does today. It never failed to make my belly clench in a sort of painful pleasure. In anticipation. Or as others might say- in terror. Once he had told me that wearing a mask could be liberating, but both of us knew how he hated his new, disfigured face. He hated it just as vehemently as he did the old, familiar person who was wearing it. He had been right about one thing though, finding my own mask has been indeed, a liberating experience, and for that I'm grateful.  
My mask.   
A new me--a girl he can allow himself to love, because she's just as broken as he is. The girl I became --for him. She's merry and jolly, and she is brutal. Her laughter is as loud as the Joker's, but there are moments, when you can glimpse the timid and often socially awkward Harleen, looking out at you from her eyes. And that's a sad sight to behold.   
I had our weekly sessions to keep me sane, or rather keep me stay afloat my own insanity. I believed him when he said that he lived for those moments with me, because his words were nothing but a reflection of my own thoughts.


End file.
